


this ship is bananas

by whythebananas



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5396015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whythebananas/pseuds/whythebananas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of unrelated mini-fics revolving around your favorite pairing (and if they're not your favorite, why are you even on this tag? :P)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. today was a fairytale, i wore a dress (you wore a dark gray t-shirt)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [red_thread](https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_thread/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a result of "write me something Halloween related" (super late, I know) and "write me something based on a TSwift song" so.
> 
> *shrug*
> 
> Gifted to the little sib for naming this series.

Alex was five years old when she decided that Princess Aurora is her favorite princess.

There’s an entire section in one of the Morgan family albums filled with Alex in her Princess Aurora costume because for many months after that declaration, that was all she would wear.

If you flip back a few pages, you’ll find that she had been a pumpkin on her first Halloween. Then a bunny. You’ll find an empty slot next to the bumblebee that came after the bunny, because that had been the year she was dressed in the ugliest sheep costume, and Alex had snuck that one out and torn it to pieces the moment she was tall enough to reach for the album on the top shelf without any help.

But when she was five years old her mom decided that she was grown up enough to choose her own costume, and five-year-old Alex Morgan did not take that lightly. She thought real hard about it and decided that she was going to be Princess Aurora for that one night...

...and many nights after that. Even when she decided that her Princess Aurora dresses weren’t for everyday wear anymore (she could run faster and kick the ball better in shorts and sneakers, and Daddy told her that princesses don’t have to wear dresses every day to be princesses), for four years after that, she still dressed up as Princess Aurora on October 31st.

She made Tobin from next door be Prince Phillip every year she’s Princess Aurora, because a princess needs a prince.

(Really, Tobin dressed up as a ghost or scarecrow or whatever it was she wanted to be that year. But she carried a plastic sword that Alex’s mom got her, and whenever some lady asked her what she was dressed as, she would say that she was a scarecrow-prince or ghost-prince or something to that effect, and that was good enough for Alex.)

Her mom tried to get her to dress up as Snow White or Cinderella one year, but well. Alex hated apples (unless it’s the juice kind), and maybe Cinderella had a fairy godmother who made her a pretty dress, but Sleeping Beauty had _three_ fairy godmothers who made her a dress that could change colors. So that’s that.

 

+

 

When Alex is fifteen, she meets Servando.

He’s the hotshot transfer and the new striker on the boys’ soccer team ( _and super dreamy_ , if you ask Alex). He asks Alex to the school dance and shows up with a navy blue tie to match her blue dress, and he tells her she looks beautiful. He dances with her the entire time, and when the guys tell him they’re ditching to go to a party at a senior’s house, he turns them down. And at the end of the night, he lets Alex wear his blazer when she gets cold and walks her home.

When he asks Alex to be his girl before first period two days later, Alex thinks about how sweet he was and how handsome he looked, and she says yes.

They date the next two years, and everyone calls the two star strikers Diamond Bar High’s new _It_ couple. Alex doesn’t believe in princes and princesses anymore, but she thinks that if she did, Servando would come pretty close to a prince.

 

+

 

Alex is seventeen when Servando breaks her heart.

He’s off to college and he wants to focus on school and soccer, and it’s _nothing personal_ , or _it’s not you, it’s me_ (or something like that). And Alex reminds herself that it’s okay, that she doesn’t believe in princes and princesses anymore. She’s old enough by then to know that a princess doesn’t need a prince, anyway.

 

+

 

Tobin goes off to college that year too, and that hurts a little more, because Tobin’s been there way before Servando. But it also hurts a little less, because at seventeen losing your boyfriend may seem like the end of the world, but just for a little while, and all it takes is one phone call in the middle of the night to realize that yes, her best friend left too, but she didn’t lose her. Isn’t going to lose her.

 

+

 

The first time Tobin kisses Alex, Alex has to stop the small part of her alcohol-muddled brain that thinks about fairytales again, about princes saving the day and waking up princesses with True Love’s Kiss.

She’s nineteen now and has since moved on to rom coms and reality TV, and real life doesn’t work like fairytales.

Real life is best friends going to school on opposite sides of the country, is playing phone tag because of time zones and different schedules, because of classes and soccer and all nighters, because of new friends and hookups and boyfriends and girlfriends. Real life doesn’t guarantee happy endings - it’s messy, is unpredictable, is a patchwork of laughter and tears and everything in between.

But real life is also the game of phone tag ending the moment a text with the words _I had a bad day_ or _we broke up_ is sent, because yes, they’re both busy, but never too busy when it matters and _who do I need to beat up?_ and _fuck that guy, you can do better than him anyway_. It’s late night Skype conversations and impromptu pep talks and sneaking out after joint Morgan-Heath holiday dinners and summers tanning and surfing at the beach. It’s _I miss you_ and _I wish you were here_ and everything else that doesn’t get said out loud but still manages to get heard through meaningful glances and hugs that last longer than they should.

It’s right now, in the bathroom at the end of the hall, with the water running and an uncapped Neosporin and a band aid on Alex’s palm.

 _Not the most romantic of places_ , Alex thinks, because there are dozens of sweaty gyrating bodies on the other side of the door and she can still hear the heavy thumping music outside blasting some version of _Get Low_.

Not that it’s Tobin’s fault - being there was Alex’s idea in the first place, because Brad their high school quarterback insisted that this would be _the_ party of the summer and she’d really just wanted to get drunk and maybe see if anyone from high school had gotten cuter in the year they’d been gone. And Tobin’s never been very good at saying no to Alex.

 

+

 

 _A semester without seeing your best-friend-who-might-be-more-than-that is a semester too long_ , Tobin decides, because they may have kept in touch the entire time they’ve been apart, but hearing Alex’s voice and seeing her face through a phone or laptop screen isn’t quite the same as having Alex actually be here with her (even if _here_ is currently this stupid party).

Alex is a sloppy drunk, but Tobin doesn’t mind very much (at least she’s not a pukey drunk - not yet, at least). She only minds when Alex cuts her hand trying to pick up the pieces of a shot glass she’d dropped, only minds when she has a moment of weakness because Alex looked so cute smiling at her Superman band aid and she’s looked _amazing_ all night in that dress, and -

She doesn’t mind so much anymore when Alex kisses her back.

She worries a little that it’s the alcohol’s doing, because Alex had been dancing a little closer and leaning into her more than usual all night, but when she pulls away later, she hears -

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

So she stops worrying after that.

 

+

 

And Alex, well. Tobin looks at her with that goofy grin when she pulls away, and _dammit_ , she had been annoyed when Tobin showed up at her door wearing a snapback and t-shirt and jeans after Alex had texted her to _dress to impress_ , but _okay_ , she’s impressed.

 

+

 

Tobin texts Alex _good morning :)_ the next day, and Alex smiles through breakfast even if she’s nursing the biggest hangover.

She thinks about their kisses the night before, about the first one in the bathroom, about the second one when Tobin dropped her off at home (and the third one she blew at Tobin, who caught it and held it to her chest because she’s a huge dork - _but she’s my dork now, I guess_ , Alex thinks).

She thinks about everything that’s led them to this point.

There was no dragon to be slain (just a douchebag frat boy that Tobin had to shove off because he was stepping just a little too close into Alex’s personal space) and no spindle to prick her finger on and curse her to eternal sleep (just a shallow cut from a party foul).

And there was no prince - just the girl next door she’d forced to pretend to be one when they were kids. Just the girl next door who became her best friend. Who never let a thing like distance keep her from being exactly what Alex needs (and wants).

Alex’s eyes were wide open the first time Tobin kisses her, but she feels as if something in her woke up all the same.

( _It’s no True Love’s Kiss_ , Alex thinks as she sips on her orange juice, _but it was a fucking great kiss_.)

Alex thinks about the fairytales she grew up on, and how real life isn’t quite like it, and she decides that maybe sometimes, life spins a different kind of fairytale that’s even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Sammy Morgan-Heath asks to be Princess Aurora for Halloween, her Ma has to restrain her Mommy from buying three kinds of dresses (just in case she takes after her Mommy).
> 
> Mommy tells her that she doesn’t need a prince to be a princess, but if she meets a prince (or another princess) later on (much, much later, like, in thirty years, Ma tells her), that’s okay too.
> 
> (Except she doesn’t really care about meeting a prince or a princess. She just really likes the pink dress she gets to wear.)
> 
> She asks to be Hermione Granger the next year, and Ma is relieved for some reason.
> 
> (Until they go trick-or-treating and she bumps into a boy dressed up as Ron Weasley.)
> 
> Her moms are weird sometimes.


	2. could've been lovers (but at least you're still my day late friend)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for @tobinheaths and the anon who wanted "bus buddies" and "Alex tells Tobin she's moving to Orlando".

Tobin read somewhere that déjà vu is the moment you and another version of yourself in a different universe experience the same thing, that the feeling of familiarity is because for a brief and rare moment you were in sync with yourself across space and time.

If that were true, Tobin likes to believe that the déjà vu she felt that night at the party was one of them. That the feeling of familiarity wasn’t simply because they’d been in similar situations many times before, where shared glances looked just a bit too hopeful and hugs lasted a bit too long and kisses just missed their mark.

If that were true, Tobin likes to believe that the other version of her would have kissed Alex that night, when the clock was counting down to the new year and Alex pulled her close and looked at her with her bright blue eyes. She likes to believe that some other version of her wouldn’t have simply smiled, wouldn’t have ruined the moment with _you’re my best friend, Al_.

Tobin likes to believe that because maybe then, some other version of herself wouldn’t be sitting on this church pew, watching the girl she loves marry someone else.

Maybe then, she wouldn’t be standing at the airport a year and a half later, watching the very same girl walk away into the next chapter of her life.

She wouldn’t have had to plaster on a smile, and all the versions of _I don’t want you to go_ and _Stay with me_ wouldn’t have died in her throat the night Alex showed up at her door with a bottle of wine and a pint of Rocky Road and — _I’m moving to Orlando_.

She wouldn’t have had to, because Alex would have been on her side of the door — inside _their_ home: the home Alex once spoke of one night when they’ve had too much wine — a nice one-bedroom apartment with a bright red front door and light blue walls they’d paint themselves (and a parking space, because they can drive to practices together).

But she had been too used to month-to-month leases during the season, too caught up in the freedom of couchsurfing and apartment hopping in the offseason, that she didn’t realize everything she could have gained by giving all that up.

And now that Portland is her home — has come to be home — it is no longer Alex’s.

Alex’s home is 2,500 miles away, with her husband, with their new dog.

 _We’ll always have camp_ , Alex had whispered into her ear as she hugged her tightly. _Bus buddies forever, right?_

 _You’re my best friend, Al_ , Tobin had whispered back. And she’d felt it again, that feeling of deja vu, and she wonders if somewhere, in another universe, another version of her would have taken the chance, would have tried — even if she might’ve been a couple of years too late.

(She wonders if the other her would have had the courage to ask Alex to stay anyway.)

Tobin read somewhere that déjà vu is the moment you and another version of yourself in a different universe experience the same thing, that the feeling of familiarity is because for a brief and rare moment you were in sync with yourself across space and time.

And Tobin likes to believe that it’s true.

Tobin likes to believe that because maybe then, some other version of herself just might have gotten the girl.


	3. clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable (you twist to fit the mold that i am in)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For tobinheaths, who wanted gay disaster Alex.

****Alex kisses Tobin for the first time at 8:03 on a Saturday morning, when they’ve barely rubbed the sleep from their eyes, still tangled together in a mess of limbs.

It’s a bit impulsive, even for her. _And maybe a little unfair_ , Alex worries for a split second, because Tobin is the nicest person Alex knows, and what if —

But Tobin smiles into the kiss, even moves her hand to cup Alex’s cheek, and any ridiculous ideas about having read all the signs wrong or Tobin kissing back out of _politeness_ goes out of the window. Still, Alex panics that her intentions haven’t been made clear enough (even if it can’t get any clearer with her tongue in Tobin’s mouth), so “Do you want to go on a date with me?” comes tumbling out as soon as Tobin pulls away.

Alex winces, because she’s been practicing those words over and over in her head the past two weeks, and she’d had plans (and backup plans) about when and where she was going to say them.

(On Wednesday after game night, because she and Tobin make a kickass team and Tobin will be in a great mood after they beat everyone at Taboo.)

(Or on Friday, because they carpool to work on Fridays and grab dinner after, and she made reservations at that new place on 17th they’ve been wanting to try.)

(On Saturday even, because that’s the deadline she gives herself — she figures that if she already chickened out twice, she’ll be too frustrated at herself and too impatient to wait any longer, and she’ll probably show up on Tobin’s doorstep with breakfast and just blurt it out.)

Except Tobin had to be stupidly cute with her stupid bedhead and stupid sleepy voice.

(And apparently Alex didn’t have to wait until Saturday for her impatience to set in.)

Tobin rolls over to her back and pushes herself up with her elbows, working out the kink in her neck before she pushes herself up to a sitting position to stretch the rest of her upper body.

And Alex, she stares. She sits up and stares, not just because _muscles are being flexed_ ( _and is this amount of stretching even necessary???_ ), but because Tobin is taking her time (her sweet ass time), and _oh my god_ , did Tobin not hear her question?

Tobin flops back, sighing contentedly as her head hits the pillow as if she hasn’t noticed Alex waiting anxiously. Then, “I kinda already thought that’s what we’re doing on Friday.”

Like, seriously, is she supposed to ask again, or — “Wait, what?”

Tobin rolls to face her, propping her head up with a hand. “You said you made reservations.”

 _Again, what?_ “I… yeah, I did,” Alex says, nodding slowly.

Tobin rubs her eye as she stifles a yawn. “So did you want to do something else, or —”

“Wait, Friday is a date?”

“Aren’t Fridays date nights?” Tobin asks, confused.

Alex is confused, too. “We’re dating?”

“We’re not?”

“Since when,” Alex demands more than asks.

“I dunno.” Tobin raises a shoulder in a half-shrug. “I just figured we were.”

Alex tries really hard not to be offended by this assumption. Tries. “But we never even kissed!”

“We just did.”

Alex tries to ignore the stupid ass grin on Tobin’s face. “Yeah, and then I asked you out for the first time!”

“Do you usually kiss before the first date?”

“ _Tobin!_ ”

“Sorry, sorry.” Tobin chuckles, looking extremely not sorry. “I just figured you wanted to take things slow or something.”

“God, this was not how I pictured this conversation.”

“I’ll get you flowers for our date,” Tobin offers. “Will that make up for it?”

Alex tries to will away the smile that tries to creep up on her. “Maybe,” she mumbles, looking down. Big mistake. Tobin’s hand finds hers easily, thumb casually tracing circles on the back of her hand.

“Cool,” Tobin says, and Alex finally lets herself smile, because despite the disaster that was the last five minutes, they’re finally going on a date (that they’re both aware of, that is) and yeah, things could have gone a bit smoother, but well, it’s really her own fault for falling for stupid Tobin fucking Heath.

“Hey, Al,” Tobin speaks up again, and Alex hums in contentment, still basking in the moment, because all this — waking up together and staying in bed (and the making out) — well, it’s really not a bad way to spend a Saturday morning.

(It’s pretty fucking nice, actually.)

“We have time to drop by a flower shop after you pick me up from work, right?”

…And the moment’s gone.

Alex rolls her eyes. “Tobin Heath, romance extraordinaire.”

(And Alex Morgan, the useless bisexual, because she feels all kinds of giddy anyway.)

Tobin’s grin widens. Alex glares.

They spend the rest of the morning in bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (“So… do you do other stuff before the first date, too?”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “Okay, just checking.)


	4. number two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly new - just a little Tumblr prompt fill from a few months ago. :)
> 
> Most likely takes place in bouquet!fic 'verse.

“I just don’t get why the wedding has to be so early,” Alex grumbles the second time since they’ve sat down.

“Aw, don’t be so cranky, Al,” a way too chipper Kelley says next to her. “Look on the bright side!”

“Ugh, I’ve had like four hours of sleep. The only bright thing I see is the fucking sun in my eyes.”

“I’ve got three for you: a) there’s an open bar at the reception...”

Alex makes an appreciative sound at that. 

“...b) these fancy programs make a nice shade if you hold it at the right angle,  _ and  _ they double up as fans…  _ Hey _ !” — Kelley smacks Alex with her program — “Appreciate these fuckers! I stayed up gluing these stupid popsicle sticks last week!”

“Alright, alright,” Alex mumbles, glancing down at her own program sitting on her lap. The words  _ Lauren & Jrue  _ greet her in a big, loopy font, taking up half of the front page, and the sight brings a small smile out of her. She looks up and sees Jrue standing proudly next to his brother Justin, and her smile widens. Exhausted as she is (and starving, since she left her bagel in the toaster in her mad dash out the door this morning), she really is happy to be here, celebrating her friends’ special day with them.

“Well?”

She turns to Kelley and rolls her eyes at the expectant look on her face. “The programs are nice, Kel,” she admits begrudgingly.

Kelley opens her mouth — probably to gloat some more — but they are interrupted as the pastor takes the mic and tells them to rise for the procession. They both turn to the end of the aisle as the music starts. As the first groomsman and bridesmaid approach the end of the aisle, Kelley nudges her lightly with her elbow.

“You haven’t even heard the third one yet,” Kelley whispers. “It’s the  _ best  _ one.”

Alex tries shushing Kelley, because the last thing they need is to be  _ kicked out of a wedding _ , but Kelley continues as if she doesn’t notice: “Jrue’s groomsmen are  _ hot _ .”

_ Oh my god, Kel. _

“You’re gay,” she reminds her friend, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Not blind,” comes the response.

Alex’s gaze wanders curiously, finding sandy blond hair and a chiseled jaw, and  _ huh, Kelley does have a point _ . 

“I’d say this one is a solid seven,” Kelley comments shamelessly.

“...inches?”

Kelley gasps, looking scandalized, eliciting a glare from one of Lauren’s aunts, and  _ oh my god _ , they are so getting kicked out. “ _ Out of ten.  _ Alexandra, you dog.”

“Shut up,” Alex mumbles, but Kelley’s attention is already on the second pair entering the aisle. She follows her line of sight — and her breath catches in her throat.

“Definitely an eight,” Kelley declares, “just like the eight-pack he’s probably hiding underneath that shirt.”

Alex has no doubt that Kelley’s right, but she’s too distracted, eyes moving up long legs that disappear under a formfitting peach colored bridesmaid dress, to bared, toned arms — and to a pair of knowing eyes and a playful smile. Alex flushes, mind wandering to the previous night (and early this morning) and the reason she was running so late. 

(Or  _ four _ reasons, if she’s being honest.)

Groomsman number two could be a ten for all she cares. The girl on his arm? She’d put the stupid scale to shame.

Her eyes follow as the pair reach the other end of the aisle before the two separate and walk over to their respective sides. She barely notices Amy after that, or the ring bearer and flower girl. Kelley thankfully nudges her in time for her to not miss Lauren being escorted down the aisle by her father.

Later, when everyone is seated and the pastor is giving his speech, Alex finds herself slightly… distracted.  _ Again. _

“Stop fantasizing,” Kelley whispers.  _ If only she knew _ . 

“You’re gross,” Alex says back.

“I’m not the one with the dirty mind,  _ Inches.  _ Besides, I’m being supportive. I’d say take your pick but it looks like groomsman number two is the winner.”

Alex almost snorts at Kelley’s obliviousness, but her heart warms because she knows exactly what Kelley is trying to do. It’s not her best friend’s fault that she doesn’t  _ know _ . Neither of them have told Kelley — or anyone, really.  She thinks about telling Kelley then — she can already imagine the comical reaction — but today is Lauren and Jrue’s day and should remain such. There’ll be time for that later. 

(Later comes five drinks into the reception, when Kelley stumbles into a room that Tobin  _ swears _ she locked.)

((“I should have known it was  _ bridesmaid _ number two,” Kelley complains many apologies and even more drinks later. She looks towards the bar, where groomsman number two is talking up a very good looking, very  _ male,  _ bartender. “I should have fucking known.”

Next to her, Alex laughs into Tobin’s shoulder. Their hands remain clasped under the table.))


End file.
